Death's Chosen Child

Chapter 8: Part eight

Harry's POV;

Harry had never expected that so many old men (and a couple of women) could gather this quickly. It had just been fifteen minutes, and while Harry was sitting there looking like the perfect little Potter heir, he had seen the Wizengamot fill up relatively fast.

He was watching the old men he knew were Death Eaters extra closely, not that they would know that he was watching them for that reason. But still, he saw them glancing at him multiple times. He wished that Lady Magic and Death were with him. They had become his support system the last couple of years. Of course, Sirius and Remus and even Tom were doing their best, but Harry wasn't going to forget his adopted father and 'aunt'.

He looked around the room and couldn't wait to introduce Tom to the Wizengamot when they both would take their seats. He quickly suppressed a grin at the thought.

Almost every seat in the chamber was taken, all of them in dark or black Wizengamot robes. Only one person stood out like a sore thumb. Harry didn't know who she was, but the toadlike woman was dressed completely in pink and wore a shit-eating grin while tittering here and there. She was sitting very closely next to Fudge, and Harry immediately got a bad feeling about the witch. He was going to ask Sirius, Remus, and Tom if they knew the witch.

Then Dumbledore walked in, his hands behind his back and a grandfatherly smile on his features. He hadn't seen Harry just yet, but that would change soon enough. He took place on the dais in the center of it all. Correction, now two members stood out like a sore thumb in the middle of all the dark robes. Dumbledore was wearing something like a yellow with blue striped monstrosity. Tom would probably have a heart attack with just looking at him. The thought of Tom brought a smile to Harry's face. When he caught himself smiling, he quickly scraped his throat and frowned.

Harry didn't know what was happening, but the last couple of weeks have been - pleasant - with Tom also in the house. He didn't know what he had expected, but bantering, learning from Tom, and reading together had not been it.

Tom was still walking a little on eggshells around him, but Harry was getting to know him better and better, the dry wit and the sarcasm were something Harry could admire, and the relationship Tom had with Remus and Sirius was something Harry knew came from far but would be strong. He hoped he could have the same with Tom at some point. But flashes of a half-naked Tom wandered through his head more often than not, and the sense of heat he got from it was something that made him feel guilty.

He couldn't get together with Tom. Not ever. Not because Tom was, in fact, Voldemort, only the not-crazy version of him. But because Tom was brilliant. Tom was beautiful, smart, cunning, powerful, and everything Harry wanted .

But Tom could never want Harry like that.

Harry was powerful, loyal, mischievous, and mediocre at best. Tom wouldn't want that. Tom needs someone that complements him, that can push back and pull when he needs it.

Harry sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose, he has had this train of thought for the last two weeks, and it's getting more annoying every time.

He focuses back on the room and sees that the trial is about to start.

When he looks at Dumbledore, he sees that the man has finally seen Harry. Harry just winks at him before focusing on the chair that is coming up from the ground. A panicked Wormtail is pulling on his bonds but is not making any progress. When he finally notices he has an audience, he squeaks in fear.

Multiple people look in disgust at Wormtail, but Harry also notices the ones that are looking in fear at him. Wizards that Harry knows are Death Eaters. Brilliant .